for the love you find (there's a fight to be won)
by romanovaly
Summary: it takes baby steps, but eventually matthew casey and gabriela dawson find their way back to their beginning again. summer in chicago, after all, is the best time to fall back in love.


**A/N:** so this doc was labeled "dawsey trash" on my laptop if that gives you any indication of what to expect. i wrote this before the finale? so like no real spoilers, unless you _also_ believe that chicago fire ended with puppies and sunshine and unicorns. cause if you did then GREAT, enjoy the continuing fluff.

honestly this is for jenna and charlie, both of whom i probably wouldn't have started talking to if i wasn't dumb enough to fall down the chf rabbit hole and write fic because _emotions_. so thanks guys, you're both terrible enablers lmao.

—

 _you're gonna be a great dad_ **gabby dawson, a nuisance call**

 _you're gonna make a great mom_ **matt casey, call it paradise**

—

She slips under the covers, gently resting her head against his shoulder. He had forgotten during these past months, when her attitude and the gear she bravely carried made her seem larger than life, how slight she was, how perfectly her petite form nestled against his during their quieter moments.

The apartment glows in the early morning light. He doesn't know what's the time exactly, just knows that they don't have shift today, knows they could spend every moment in bed if they wanted, no expectations, no responsibilities.

Her gaze is warm as it settles on him. He can smell the spearmint of her toothpaste, the muted spice of vanilla from her lotion. He can't believe its been this long since it all enveloped him, he hopes he never has to go another second without its proximity, never has to return to a point where he relied on passing moments and brief touches to ensure it remained within his memory.

"How are you feeling?" His voice is hoarse in the quiet. He carefully tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear before resting a hand on the curve of her cheek.

He feels more than sees her shrug, the shifting of movement beside him. "Been better," she whispers. "I think the last time I puked was my first week on Ambo when this guy managed to split open his guts in an accident. Man, that scene smelled like shit."

He laughs, "Always the best campfire stories, Dawson."

"It's a badge of CFD honor, Casey."

She settles further into the mattress, her eyes slipping shut as a sigh escapes her lips. He can feel when she nods off. Only a couple months in and her body's already spent from carrying around an extra person.

He's a ball of nervous energy, unable to close his eyes and catch an extra few hours of rest. Really, there's too much to do for Matt to just give in and sleep, but he can't make himself roll out of bed and head into the kitchen. Instead, he lies there and watches the sun climb higher and higher into the sky, bathing the bedroom in golden light and making her tan skin glow.

He remembers their first night in the new place, when it was more plastic covered furniture and moving boxes than a home. The only thing she had insisted on having done by the end of the day was the bed, immediately jumping backwards onto it like a little kid when they were finished tucking in the comforter. She had glowed then, too. Her face all cheeks and teeth, eyes crinkled at the corner. Her hair had been longer, piled high up on her head in a bun, the neck of his old t-shirt slipping down her shoulder. It had been the first time she had really, truly smiled since Shay's death. It had been perfect.

He hears the door to Severide's room open and close, followed by the hum of the coffee maker coming to life and figures it's time to at least leave bed. He loosens Gabby's hold around him, replacing his shoulder for her pillow and searches the ground for his discarded t-shirt.

Severide's resting against the counter, the Sun-Times spread out in front of him, a bowl of cereal at his elbow, when he walks into the kitchen, dragging a hand down his face.

"How's Dawson?"

Matt pauses, the door to the fridge half open, and looks at his roommate.

"I heard her mad dash to the bathroom earlier," says Kelly, gaze never leaving the sports section.

"She's fine. She went back to sleep," he takes the cream out the fridge, giving it a cursory whiff before topping off a cup of coffee.

"You guys figure everything out yet?"

"We're trying to."

Severide nods and doesn't say anything else. Matt thinks it's the end of it, before he starts talking again, "Just let me know when you guys want me out, okay?"

"Hey, Sev, no, you know this is your place, too."

Kelly finally looks up, pointing his spoon at Matt. "You guys did me a favor a year ago, but we both know it was supposed to be temporary. I'm okay, Casey, I can go apartment hunting. I did it before Shay and I can do it after."

They hear the sound of water running and Severide returns to his breakfast while Matt empties the last of the coffee into his mug and then brews a new pot. Gabby shuffles into the room a little while later, wearing an oversized CFD sweatshirt to ward off the chill of air conditioning. Matt and Kelly watch as she pours a cup of coffee automatically, adding a few spoonfuls of sugar, before bringing it up to her nose and taking a deep breath. Her eyes immediately snap open and a look of betrayal flits across her face as she looks down at the mug.

Matt's hiding half of his face behind his mug when he tells her, "It's decaf," and watches as Gabby's face creases in even worse annoyance.

Kelly just laughs silently from his seat, toasting his own coffee into the air, "It's better than cold turkey though, Dawson."

"Not by much," she mumbles, stealing the local news section from Severide and running her index finger along the first page headlines.

He leaves the two to their morning routines and returns to the bedroom. He can hear Gabby and Kelly quietly arguing over some new policy being introduced by the mayor as he crosses the room and searches through the drawer in his bedside table. The black box is still there, shoved at the back in a poor imitation of how he blocked the way they ended from memory. He runs his thumb against the gold clasp before flipping it open and staring at the ring for the first time in months.

It's not the right time, he knows. It's too soon, too much, too fast. But, _maybe one day_. That sounds a lot better than never again.

—

He doesn't know how he's fallen into this pattern. A trail of (alright, _two_ ) broken engagements and (multiple) messed up relationships. The psychologist the state of Illinois made him see after his entire world blew up in '97 would argue it's because of some latent complications arising from his parents' troubled relationship. Matt calls bullshit on that, of course. He never really trusted that those suit and tie guys knew what they were talking about.

He thought he got it right with Hallie; he had tried and tried to make it the work. Maybe, he had held on too tight because she was good and kind and everything he thought he'd never have. Maybe, he should have cut his losses and ended things instead of getting down on one knee all those years ago. Maybe that would've saved them both, he'll never know.

He never expected Gabby, with her infectious grins and no-nonsense attitude and whip-smart instincts. He wasn't lying when he had told her that _this was worth doing right_. Because she deserved it all and he thought he had, he thought he had checked all the boxes, but instead it crumbled around them like a house fire where the smoke's going black.

She's sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. A pencil is stuck into her hair, holding the bun in place. There are books and papers scattered around her and she's got a furrow between her brows as she concentrates on a printout.

Matt drops his duffle bag on the floor next to the bed and settles cautiously on the edge, kicking off his boots. "What's all this?"

"Boden wants me to sit for the PIC recertification test before I rejoin Ambo," she replies, pen between her teeth as she flips through a heavy textbook. She glances up, "I forgot how much I hated this exam. Half of these regs are complete crap, you know. They make no sense when you're actually on the street."

"Works the same for the lieutenant's examination. The brass just wants numbers." He climbs further onto the bed, leaning against the headboard and pulling her along with him. "Boden's just crossing his t's and dotting his i's, there's been a lot of movement in-house, he wants to make sure you don't get pulled because some White Shirt thinks you're getting special treatment."

She sighs and rolls her neck. Matt immediately reaches up and grips her shoulders, loosening the knots of worry that have built up over the last twenty-four hours.

"I just already feel like a housewife," she says quietly, one hand worrying the chain of Shay's necklace. "Which is stupid, I know."

"No, it's not," he whispers into her hair, dropping his hands to her hips and shifting her around so that he can look into her eyes, "But, that willingness of yours to give help to whoever needs it has just gotta be focused on yourself for a little bit."

She nods and leans against him. What's still unsaid from all those months hangs in the air. _I love you_ and _I'm sorry_ are on the tip of his tongue, but he presses down the urge and places a soft kiss to the crown of her head, instead. They're still circling each other, uncertain as to the new status quo after all this time. Falling back into bed together was easy, but he's found it's always simpler to tear down a structure than it is to build one back up brick by brick.

"Come on," he tells her, a quick tug on her hairstyle sends it tumbling down. "Let's go out and get breakfast, get out of the house for a little. There's a great place that Brett was talking about up on Clark."

She laughs, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips and then she shrugs, "Why not. It's not like I have anywhere to be."

Her hair's falling in curls around her shoulders when they finally make their way to the neighborhood. She's got on a dress that Matt's sure is new and when she reaches across the table with her left hand to grab a bite of his cinnamon roll, his stomach twists at the way her unadorned ring finger doesn't catch the light from the sun.

—

He's waiting for her on the locker room bench. He doesn't really know _why_. She's not showing. Not yet, at least. Or, _maybe_ , if you squint your eyes and tilt your head to the side. But, she's taken to changing in the shower stalls before and after shift. If it's to keep a semblance of privacy and sanity, he gets it. The firehouse guys can sometimes be worse busybodies than old grandmothers.

They have an appointment with her OB/GYN in an hour and it's the first one he's been able to make.

She's pulling her hair out of its usual ponytail as she turns the corner, backpack already slung over her shoulder. Matt grabs it, taking her hand with his free one and leading them out of the firehouse. There's a mix of emotions bubbling under his skin. He's excited and anxious and full to the brim with love for someone he has yet to officially meet.

The hesitance written across Gabby's face as they take his pick-up truck to her doctor's office tells him he's not the only one feeling overwhelmed.

Her doctor has a kind smile, an upfront attitude and greets them both like old friends.

It's not his first time in a doctor's office, occupational hazard and all that, but he fidgets at the crinkle of paper on the exam table as Gabby clambers up and widens his eyes at the ultrasound equipment all around the room.

He tries to remember what she had told him during their scarce moments of down time on shift. But, everything blurs together, medical terms and terms of endearment and he's pretty sure he starts tearing up when the first sound of _their baby's_ heartbeat fills the small exam room.

The doctor's efficient, asking questions and checking vitals, and he half-listens as Gabby responds with equal confidence, her training filling in gaps where he's sure other first-time mothers have faltered. She leaves them for a moment, saying that she's going to get a printout of the sonogram, and Matt finds himself immediately turning to Gabby, the awe he's feeling surely written across his face because that's _their kid_ and all he's ever wanted was to be a father.

"She's gonna have your eyes," says Gabby quietly, readjusting her shirt.

"You think it's a girl?" He searches out her gaze, so vulnerable and cautious where he's used to hardened and assured.

"I think I'm already outnumbered at 51." It's said with a laugh and everything else is left unsaid as the doctor returns with a few sheets of paper. Matt makes a grab for the sonogram image, already making plans for putting it in his locker or in his quarters. Gabby leafs through the other handouts, settling for an official looking page with the CFD logo on it. Matt catches a few words, knows it's going to Boden and the other White Shirts. It's a sobering reminder even as he holds the picture in his hands.

—

They end up at like four different Fourth of July barbecues because it's not a true summer holiday without multiple potato salads.

Christie hosts something for the neighborhood families and Gabby's cousin throws a huge Dawson reunion while Herrmann invites all of 51 over to his and Cindy's and the annual CFD/CPD cook out happens across town.

It's a mess of traffic and fireworks and Vienna Beef hot dogs.

Gabby drives them to the apartment while he recuperates from one too many PBRs. But, it's a good day. It's one of the first where they're _together_ , as a _couple_ , as a _family_. It's those thoughts that have him grinning all the way home.

They had been at the Dawsons' event, Matt, Gabby, and Antonio holding down a table in the corner of a big backyard, when one the numerous kids had come over and crawled into her lap. The precocious toddler shared Gabby's wide brown eyes and had tapped her aunt's stomach before asking slowly, "Momma says there's a baby in there, Auntie Gabby. Is that true?"

Gabby had leaned down, pressing her nose to her niece's, "Can you keep a secret Sammy?" The little girl had nodded quickly, pigtails bouncing, "There is a baby in there. Me and Uncle Matt," she pointed at him then, her smile warm and wide, "We're gonna have a new cousin for you to play with in a few months."

Sammy had gasped at that, clapping her hands together and then scrambling back to the ground and her cousins.

Antonio gestured across the table after, "She's the worst secret keeper in this family, sis. Worse than Abuela, even. You're not leaving this party without at least six random pieces of advice."

"As if this was gonna stay secret at all, Antonio."

Her brother had leaned towards Matt after that, shaking his head, "Don't know why you wanted to marry into this family, bro. I would've run away the second after meeting her."

"What makes you think my family's less crazy?" He had replied with a grin. Gabby simply smiled across at the both of them before she was whisked away by another relative.

She had been so happy all afternoon, so peaceful and at ease. Now, though, he watches as she kicks off the wedged sandals she sported all day and lets down the up-do created in deference to the Chicago heat. She passes the wine rack she insisted on when they first went furniture shopping for the cabinet and a glass and fills it up with water, finally hopping up on the kitchen counter and letting her head fall back, exposing her neck.

 _God, he loves her._

It almost slips out as she moves from the fridge to the freezer; searching for the container of Oberwise ice cream she had made him stop for over a week ago. She scoops some out into a bowl, adds a spoon (or four) of peanut butter into the mix and sprinkles on coconut shavings before settling back and grinning in delight.

He tosses his ball cap onto the table and walks over, trapping her in her perch on the counter and stealing a bite of her newest craving.

They don't have all the time in the world. Their jobs make sure that thought is always at the front of his mind, but he doesn't think he needs to tell her those three words when he can see them shining in her eyes and taste them in the way she reluctantly shares her summer snack and feel them in the way her toes skim the back of his legs in their loose embrace and hear them in that laugh she shares _just with him_ , bright, light, and a little bit breathless.

 _She loves him_ , and honestly, that's more than he could have ever expected.

—

Boden introduces _two_ new members to Firehouse 51 towards the end of the month. The first is a new firefighter for Truck 81. Fitzpatrick's a little green, fresh out of his candidacy program and still eager to learn, but he meshes well enough with the rest of the guys. O'Malley is a bundle of energetic potential and while her puppy-dog attitude works well with Brett, he can see the way Gabby falters at switching from being in O'Malley's shoes just a few months ago to being in charge, once again.

She ends up hiding in his quarters mid-way through shift. He'd laugh if she didn't look so terrified, sitting on the edge of his bunk with her head in her hands.

"The last time I was given a candidate, I dinged her and she ended up accusing Kelly of sexual assault."

"She was gonna do that anyways," he says, settling into the chair as his desk.

Gabby stares back at him, "That's not the _point_ , Matt. God, I can't remember the last time I was supposed to be the boss. Not just the one wearing the bars."

"That's what wearing the bars _means_ , Gabby."

"I think I like being the candidate more," she replies mulishly, picking at the blanket. She stretches back on the bed, shifting from side to side to get comfortable. "If I screwed up, you got yelled at."

"Nice, _thanks_ , really appreciate that, babe," he says. "You think she's got the guts to last?"

"She's more Brett than me, but yeah. She managed to hold her own at that accident scene earlier. I'm sure she has what it takes." She keeps talking to the ceiling, "I mean she's a little jumpy, but what recruit isn't and she's got good enough instincts. Her sense of direction is crap, though. She's definitely not from around here. I think she's worse than Brett, actually."

"Play nice," Matt warns and watches with concern as she sits up again and twists her back. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. My back was bothering me earlier, but I'm fine. I might take a nap for an hour or two."

He stares at her for a few moments before nodding, "Alright, you don't have to do everything, remember. I'm sure that's why Boden gave 61 a candidate."

"I know," she glances at her watch. "How long do you give her until she messes up inventory?"

"Not sure, but I put Herrmann in charge of drilling the new kid if you need a laugh."

"In the heat of summer?"

"Why not," he grins. "Gotta protect my tough lieutenant rep."

Gabby starts to respond but the alarm interrupts her, _Ambulance 61_ , _Ashland and Polk_ , _Person down of unknown causes._

"Duty calls," she says, redoing her ponytail.

"Be careful," he pauses before casually throwing in, "I love you."

She gives him a hesitant smile and a quick kiss accompanies her, "Love you, too," and then she sweeps out of his room, heading towards the apparatus floor.

He watches her until she turns the corner and digs into the pocket of his sweatshirt. The ring box sits innocuously in his palm. He can hear the whisper of Shay, peeking her head through his open door, imploring that he speed up his proposal. He can feel her nagging in the back of his head, even now. _Come on Case, what are you waiting for. It's not like she's gonna say_ no _, or whatever._

 _Soon, Shay,_ he thinks, _Soon, but not yet._

He snaps the black box closed once again and stuffs it under paperwork in his desk drawer.

—

It's a weekend effort. Second Watch's forty-eight off falls on a Saturday and Sunday and somehow they manage to get everyone at 51 involved.

Severide's spent the entire summer searching for a good enough place for himself that's close enough to both the Firehouse and the bar scene. It's the middle of August when he slaps down a copy of a lease on the kitchen table with a smug smile.

"Congrats?" Gabby had asked, her fork of pasta hanging midair. "Are we popping a bottle of champagne?"

"Thanks for the snark, Dawson," he had replied, before settling down with a beer grabbed from the fridge. "But it's official, I can move in next week."

"But you were like perfect practice for the baby," she wailed and Matt had laughed as Kelly flicked the beer cap at her.

That's how they end up spending their first free weekend in August not soaking up the final rays of summer in Chicago, but instead boxing up Severide's junk and finally moving the last of Gabby's from her and Brett's old apartment. They bribe everyone with beer and pizza and the Cubs game on TV.

There's a last second hustle as Matt and Severide try to figure out the best plan because as cool as Kelly's car is, it's shit for moving boxes.

They get Otis with his SUV and Capp and Cruz and Fitzpatrick to move most of Severide's stuff at least out of the apartment while Herrmann and Brett and O'Malley and Matt toss everything left at Brett's into the bed of his pick-up. Gabby runs point from their apartment, with Mouch and the Chief and little Terrence. It's disjointed and just under chaotic but it works and suddenly Severide's tossing his extra key at Matt and Gabby's address is finally home once more.

Moving takes most of the morning while the afternoon is saved for baseball and talking. Herrmann, the family man that he is, shares advice out of the side of his mouth to Matt, warning him about what to expect in the coming months. Boden joins in, occasionally, with less wit and more measured knowledge and Matt doesn't know when he joined this group of firefighters, the ones who have a picture to look at when everything's falling down around them, the ones who have a family to come home to and watch over for the rest of his life. He's proud to, though, as he watches Gabby laugh with Otis and Cruz, a hand subconsciously resting on her stomach.

Eventually, everyone leaves and they're left standing in Kelly's empty room. There's just a few boxes left, full of old knick-knacks that never found a home when they moved in over a year ago. She's barely wearing makeup and there are streaks of dust on her clothes and when she turns, surveying the room, he can see a bump where his old Blackhawks t-shirt pulls against her stomach.

He's got the ring in his jeans' pocket, same place where he's taken to carrying it in the last few weeks, waiting simply for the perfect opportunity.

It makes sense to do it here, in a place that's both barren and so full of potential. They're getting a restart, a second chance, a fresh beginning. Even after everything else, even after creating more problems and destroying more chances than he ever thought possible. The sun shines into the room again, setting in the West rather than rising in the East. She's his again. His _girl._ His _home_. His _everything_. He lost it all to regain it and he knows in the end that it was worth it, all of it.

He doesn't know what he's going to say, just that he needs to do this now, before the moment passes, before he loses her again.

"I swear Matt, this room better not be covered in CFD gear when the baby gets here." She's looking out the windows critically, when he drops to his knee and waits for her to turn around.

He watches as she registers what's going on, her hands coming up to cover her face briefly before a smile breaks out.

"I know I've asked twice already, but I guess third time really is the charm?"

She laughs even as tears fall from her eyes.

"Do you remember what you told me a couple years ago? CFD's just a job, what we have is _everything_. And I know we both kinda lost sight of that this year. But, it's still true, Gabby. This family, _our family_ , is worth more to me than anything else. So I guess maybe this is less about simply marrying me and more about honoring that vow," he fiddles with the clasp and lifts up the lid and she drops to her knees, too. "I wouldn't be lying, though, if I said I wanted to marry you, too. Really, have wanted to since you first walked through the apron all those years ago and impressed the hell out of everyone, especially me. So, what do you say? You wanna give this another shot?"

"Yeah," she says, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. "I would. And, I'd like my ring back, _finally_."

He grins and pulls away, grabbing her left hand and sliding the ring on her finger. It sparkles in the setting sun, creating crystalline patterns on the wall.

—

so really, my only intention in these things is to slowly introduce you to chicago food staples. come chill with me on tumblr (gabrielaadawson) or twitter (buscato16) for continuing insights into the dawsey-hot-mess-express!


End file.
